The X Games
by Piper Kalena West
Summary: When a mysterious criminal decides she needs more excitement in her life, she comes up with a devious plan that ends up trapping Fox Mulder and Dana Scully inside the world of the Hunger Games, where they are forced to compete as tributes in the Games.
1. Chapter 1: The Beginning

**~The X-Games~**

An X-Files/Hunger Games Crossover Fanfic

DISCLAIMER: All characters from the X-Files are property of Chris Carter, 10/13 Productions, and Fox Studios. The Hunger Games is the property of Suzanne Collins and the Scholastic Publishing Company. I do not own any of the plots, characters, or other material from the aforementioned TV show/books.

Author's Note:

Hi everyone!

After reading back through my first attempt at a Hunger Games/X-Files Fanfic I decided to redo it, starting from the beginning. So here it is—the revised version of The X-Games.

Also… I know it is inconsistent that this fic is supposed to take place during the middle of the X-Files series but in it the Hunger Games already exists… I really didn't think about that much when I wrote it, but I just wanted to point it out so no one would bash me for it. :) Anyway… hope you enjoy! And also, if you have the time, tell me what you think! :D

- Piper Kalena West

**Chapter One**

**The Beginning**

**Scully's POV**

I'm standing in the middle of a silent crowd. My heart, my breath—everything has stopped. The faces of the people around me blur in and out as I adjust to my new surroundings, try to understand what is happening.

My eyes rise above the heads of the crowd, finding the face of the woman standing on the stage. Her hair is a strange shade of white-purple, and she has massive amounts of makeup on around her eyes and lips. She's holding a microphone up to her heavily painted mouth, her eyes sparkling as she begins to speak.

"Citizens of District Twelve, I am proud to announce a slight change in the rules for this year's Hunger Games. As most of you have surely noticed, it's been a bad year for crops, in all Districts. Even those of us in the Capitol have felt its affects…" she pauses, shaking her head and looking momentarily forlorn, "Due to this shortage, President Snow has allowed us to bend the rules, for this year only. As I'm sure you've all heard, this year we are allowing adults—any age, as long as they're over twelve—to submit their names for the reaping. That way the families who need extra tessera but don't have teenage children can get extra food and oil; plus it's just much more exciting for everyone!" she bounces up and down on the balls of her feet, grinning excitedly at the tense crowd. Then she clears her throat and continues, "Anyway… let's get on with it, shall we? First, the girls!"

I watch, still completely disoriented, as the strange woman turns to one of the two huge globes positioned on either side of her. Slowly, carefully she reaches into the globe and pulls out a tiny slip of paper. She holds it up in front of her face, and for the first time the crowd around me stirs. They sound excited, but not in a good way. A few people are actually in tears now, while others have their hands pressed to their face as if in terror.

"And the tribute for District Twelve is…"

The crowd draws a collective breath.

"Dana Scully!"

At first I can't process the strange woman's words. I'm still too messed up to really understand. But then I feel strong hands on my shoulders, guiding me through the crowd. We reach the stage, which I am guided up onto. I feel someone take me by the wrist and force my hand up into the air.

"Dana Scully!" the strange woman holding the microphone turns to me, her blue eyes glittering, "Let us welcome our female tribute for District Twelve!"

The crowd doesn't cheer. They don't even clap. Actually, they're all watching me with some deep, powerful emotion shining in their eyes. Pity? Fear? I can't quite put my finger on it, but my instincts tell me that I must be in some sort of danger.

The purple-haired woman gives me a dazzling smile and then turns back to the crowd. "And now… the male tribute!" Again she turns, this time thrusting her fist into the second globe. She catches a slip of paper between her fingers and pulls it out, straightening it out in front of her face. "Alright! District Twelve, your male tribute will be…" she pauses for effect, "Fox Mulder!"

My heart stops. My breath catches in my throat. That name; those two words alone, have the power to knock me out of the realm of disorientation and into reality once more. I raise my head, my eyes flashing out across the crowd as I choke out a single word:

"Mulder…"

And then I see him, pushing his way toward me through the crowd. His dark hair is sticking up all over the place and his hazel eyes are wide as they meet mine. I see his lips part and then form around my name as he returns my call. "Scully!"

I try to step toward him as he leaps up onto the stage, but the same uniformed men who escorted me up onto the stage grab my shoulders and hold me back. I struggle against their grip, but one of them digs his fingers into the back of my neck and I go limp, my heart rate and breathing accelerated to almost ten times their normal speeds.

Two more of the strange uniformed men grab Mulder's arms, pinning them behind his back as he makes an attempt to reach me. I hear him cursing and snarling angrily, but he has the good sense not to resist for too long.

The announcer woman turns to Mulder, almost bouncing up and down with excitement. "What a handsome young man!" she shoots me a quick glance, "Do you and Miss Scully know each other? Are you family? Friends? Or more?"

Mulder ignores her, his eyes fixed firmly on me. I duck my head and look away, actually embarrassed by the strange woman's remark.

"Okay, well I'm sure there will be plenty of time for getting to know one another later!" the strange woman trills, spreading her arms wide as she turns to address the crowd once more, "That's all for today! Remember to keep tuned in—I'm sure this year will be especially exciting! Oh, and may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!"

. . . . . .

All of this flashes through my mind as I stand on a small circular platform, my body encased in a sheath of clear glass-like material, preparing to enter the arena. Everything that's happened over the last few days—first the reaping, then the train ride, the training, the interviews, the costumes, the prep teams, the presentation of our skills before the Gamemakers, and now…

Only six days ago, while Mulder and I were running a name-scan through some old FBI criminal records, we came across a file labeled 'Amber, Rosetta'—a twenty-nine year old female serial killer believed to have killed thirty-five law enforcement officers over the last seven years… a dangerous psychopath obsessed with her deadly game of criminal cat-and-mouse, which she seemed especially fond of playing with cops and FBI Agents. Intrigued, Mulder had insisted we look into the case. Somehow—don't ask me how; it's like he has this seventh sense or something—Mulder managed to track Rosetta Amber down in a crowded plaza just outside of Washington, DC. I think he tracked a signal from her phone, but how he tapped into her signal in the first place is still a mystery to me.

I feel my body stiffen as the capsule around me jolts and begins to move upward. I close my eyes, trying to hold on to my sanity. _This cannot be happening…_ But it is. And there's no stopping it.

Again, I flash back to the events leading up to this moment, trying to make sense of it all.

When we caught up to Rosetta in the plaza, Mulder tried to approach her. But she saw us coming and took off, forcing us to give chase. We followed her down into an abandoned skyscraper's basement, making our way down to the third floor as the chase escalated into a full-blown criminal-hunt. We were about to begin a full search of the premises—which would include calling in backup—when Rosetta appeared out of nowhere and shot Mulder square in the chest with some sort of taser gun. I remember screaming his name as he fell to the pavement, his eyes wide with shock as the tiny ball of electricity from Rosetta's gun sent a powerful charge through his body. But before I could even draw my gun to retaliate, Rosetta had turned on me and fired another ball of energy straight at my heart. And then it was all over. My vision went black, and for a while I was unconscious, completely unaware of anything.

And when I woke up again I was here; here in the world of the Hunger Games Trilogy, standing in the middle of a silent crowd as Effie Trinket called out my name.

I don't know how to explain it. I've been wanted to ask Mulder about it—if anyone is going to know what's going on it would be him-but throughout all of the interviews and training and everything, we've been kept deliberately apart. Every time I tried to approach him; every time I called his name, the Peacekeepers—as I now know they are called—would come between us, forcing us to again go our separate ways. It's infuriating, knowing that he's so close and yet so far; always just a train-car or locked door away…

So I've done my best to play along. I guess I don't have much of a choice.

Honestly, I have no clue what's going on—my guess is that this world is part of some high-tech virtual-reality program—so I'm holding my tongue until I can get some answers out of Mulder. I mean, the guy obviously knew that there was something different about this case. He wouldn't have been interested if there wasn't.

My eyes snap open as the platform I'm on rises up through the ground and comes to a stop. For a second I am completely disoriented, my senses lost in the haze of bright blue that has appeared around me. It takes me a second to realize that what I am seeing is the sky and the sea, both an equally mesmerizing deep blue. All the tributes are now standing in our tiny capsules in the middle of the glimmering sea, the nearest land appearing almost half a mile from where we stand. I'm an okay swimmer, but it's definitely not my specialty. The clothes I am wearing are almost certain to impede my efforts, but I can feel the cameras on me now and know I can't just take them off. Anyway, I'm sure I'll want to be well dressed later. According to what I've picked up in snippets of chit-chat and discussion, every year the arena is slightly different—and dangerous in a slightly different way.

Earlier this year, during a vacation to Hawai'i, I took the time to read the first book in the Hunger Games Trilogy. I'm almost sure this is the same world, maybe a virtual reality created around the books' storylines. Well, at least I know what to expect. Kind of.

I hear the signal to begin resound through the air around me, and the casing of my capsule falls away. I tense, ready to dive into the water at any moment. But I hesitate, and I'm glad I do. One tribute reaches down into the water as if to test its temperature. There's a crackling sound, and she withdraws her hand with a scream. The tips of her fingers are burned black.

A few more seconds pass in silence as everyone waits for everyone else to take the first step off their platform and into the sea. Finally the boy tribute from District 4 leans down and brushes his fingers carefully across the top of the water. They sink into the liquid, but he does not cry out and his flesh remains pink and smooth. He turns and gives us all a grin before diving off of his platform and into the deep blue water.

Of course that triggers a free for all with everyone diving in every which way, thrashing and banging into each other as they try to get ahead. I stay on my platform, along with three other tributes and Mulder, as the rest of the group shove and splash their way toward shore.

After a few more moments the other three tributes take off as well, leaving Mulder and I alone in the middle of the sea.


	2. Chapter 2: Underwater Battle

**~The X-Games~**

An X-Files/Hunger Games Crossover Fanfic

DISCLAIMER: All characters from the X-Files are property of Chris Carter, 10/13 Productions, and Fox Studios. The Hunger Games is the property of Suzanne Collins and the Scholastic Publishing Company. I do not own any of the plots, characters, or other material from the aforementioned TV show/books.

Author's Note:

Hi everyone!

Here it is, FINALLY! Chapter two! :D

Also… I know it is inconsistent that this fic is supposed to take place during the middle of the X-Files series but in it the Hunger Games already exists… I really didn't think about that much when I wrote it, but I just wanted to point it out so no one would bash me for it. :) Anyway… hope you enjoy! And also, if you have the time, tell me what you think! :D

- Piper Kalena West

**Chapter Two**

**Underwater Battle**

**Mulder's POV**

Scully is standing a few capsules down, her entire body tensed and her hands clenched into fists by her sides. She has the appearance of a terrified animal, the kind that might lash out at any moment. I swallow the fear rising in my throat, turning toward the expanse of dark water before me. I know what I have to do, and I hate it.

"_Win the Games,"_ Rosetta's parting words echoed through my head, "_And you'll win your freedom."_

Damn. I've really done it this time.

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes and plunge into the sea. It's ice cold. I come up a few second later, bubbles streaming from my open mouth as my head breaks the surface. My hair is plastered flat to my head, falling down into my eyes. My body is quickly getting numb.

Spinning around amidst the waves, I strike out toward Scully's capsule, my breath catching in my chest as the freezing water saturates my clothing and skin.

Scully's head jerks up, her sea-colored eyes widening as I approach. And then she crouches down at the edge of her capsule, extending her hand and mouthing my name.

I catch hold of her hand, my numb fingers barely able to close around hers. She reaches down and puts her other arm around my torso, helping me to haul myself up beside her. I lie there on my side, gasping and shuddering. Sea water streams off my clothes and hair, pooling around me.

"Mulder," Scully's hand brushes the hair out of my eyes, her breath warm on my cheek, "Mulder, we've got to get to shore. These capsules… they're rigged with time-bombs. We have exactly thirty seconds to get away from here."

During the five seconds it takes me to process this; Scully has dragged me off the metal circle and struck out toward land. I try to protest, but when I open my mouth water fills it. I gasp and shudder, struggling against the numbness creeping through me, freezing the blood in my veins.

"Come one, Mulder…" Scully sounds exhausted, and I fight harder to keep myself moving forward. She can't get us both to shore without an effort from me.

We're about sixty feet from the capsules when they explode. Scully ducks under, pulling me with her, as sharp shrapnel from the blasts rain down on us. Bits of metal and glass slice through the water around us, one grazing my arm. I wince as blood seeps out into the dark water.

"Keep… moving…" Scully gasps as we surface together. Her face, pale and bloodless, is inches from mine. She looks spent—exactly how I feel. But as my fingers wrap around hers, I know I can't give up. It's my fault she's here, and it'll be my fault if she doesn't get out. Together we strike out once more.

The shore is getting closer, just twenty meters or more away. So close, and yet so far. Up until now we've been lucky, our only obstacle the freezing water around us. But somehow I feel that luck can't hold out much longer.

"Ouch… Mulder, did you feel that?"

I turn to Scully, who is staring down into the water below. I follow her gaze, puzzled. "No. What?"

"Like… like a tugging, sort of. Or an electric shock. Maybe a combination of both."

I bite my lip, suddenly wary. "Trap?"

"Maybe," she treads water, her blue eyes still fixed downward. And then her body spasms, her head jerking back as she slips beneath the surface.

"_Scully_!" I dive after her without thought, wrapping my arms tightly around her torso. And that's when I see it. A huge, purplish-grey rope curled around her right ankle, dragging her down into the depths. I blink, the salty water burning my eyes. My first thought is that she has been snared in some kind of contraption, but a moment later the thick rope shifts to reveal a row of hooked suckers. _Shit._

Scully struggles against the creature's grip, her breath bubbling from her parted lips as she screams a silent scream. One of her hands catches in my hair, her fingers groping for something to hold onto. In her panic she holds onto me, pulling me down, down, into the depths with her. I grit my teeth, holding my breath even as my lungs shriek in protest. As my survival instincts take over I have a sudden urge to release Scully and return to the surface; to save myself. I fight against it, knowing that I must stay with her until the end. I can't leave her now.

I turn to face her, but her eyes are closed and her lips are parted as she loses consciousness. Her death-grip in my hair loosens, giving me a little more room to think. And suddenly, I have an idea. Pulling off my boots, I let go of Scully and dive deeper until I am level with the tentacle. Gritting my teeth, I grasp one boot in both hands and slap it sharply against the grayish flesh. A ripple passes through the tentacle, the tip twitching. I strike it again, and again, this time kicking at it as well. It writhes, and for a second it releases its iron grip on my partner's leg. With all my strength I push Scully away from me; away from the creature. As I do so, I slip my boot in where her leg was a second before. The creature takes the bait, squeezing tight around the length of the boot.

By this time my lungs are bursting and I'm fast losing consciousness. Black and red spots dart across my vision, but I blink against them, forcing my eyes to stay open. I look around and see Scully, slowly floating downward again, her red hair fanned out around her peaceful face. I propel myself toward her, wedging my shoulder under her left arm and wrapping my other arm around her. I begin the slow but steady struggle upward, my heart-rate frenzied and my vision fading. With the last ounce of my sapped strength, I kick upward, toward the light far above. I'm almost there. Almost… the ringing in my ears rises around me, forcing my body to go limp as my thoughts flee into darkness.

. . . . . .

_SCULLY!_ In my mind I call for her, but there's no answer. The blackness surrounds me, rushing me, making it impossible to breathe…

"Mulder. Mulder, can you hear me?"

_Scully?_ I struggle to reply, but I can't feel my body, let alone move my lips. Her voice echoes through my mind, filling me up until I feel I will burst. _Scully!_

"Mulder…" suddenly I feel sensation, something hot washing through me as I struggle to take a breath. I blink my eyes open, but close them again as a sudden brightness burns them. Again, the hot sensation runs through me, burning in my arms and legs as they slowly return to life. My eyes open slowly, this time staying that way.

"Scully," I almost mouth her name as her face hovers into view. Her lips are only inches from mine, and for one wild second I expect her to kiss me. But then she blushes and sits back, her wet hair plastered around her white face as she stares at me with wide blue eyes.

"Mulder," she sounds so relieved, "Damn, for a second there I was scared that…"

I try to sit up, but with a groan I fall back onto the sand. _Sand?_ So we made it, then. I feel a sudden rush of relief.

Scully leans forward again, placing her hands firmly on my chest. "Don't move. You've been through hell and back. What happened? All I remember is going under…"

I close my eyes, giving her a tiny nod. "Octopus. Or something. Squid maybe."

"Squid?"

"Electric Squid." _Is there such a thing_?

"And you saved me?" her voice is quiet now; I hear the gratitude thick in her voice.

"Mmm."

"Well," she says, pausing as if to think this over, "Mulder, you could have been killed…"

"Yeah, what else is new?" I force a small chuckle, "We survived, didn't we?"

Scully gives a sigh. "Yeah, we did. What I want to know is how we got to shore without either one of us conscious."

I think this over for a second. "Must have drifted in with the tide."

"You mean we got lucky."

I nod again. I open my eyes, watching her as she shifts toward me, her face troubled. "Scully, how the hell did you revive yourself without someone to help you?"

A small grin tugs at the corners of her mouth. "I hit a rock on our way in. Knocked all the water out of me. Good thing, too, or we'd both be squid-food by now."

I force a tiny smile. "Are you hurt?"

She shrugs. "I'm…" she stops at the look I give her, "I'm not bad."

I sigh. Over the years, the phrase '_I'm fine'_ has come to be a sort of joke between us. If one of us says it, it almost always means the opposite. Although she stopped herself in time, I'm almost certain that's what Scully was about to say.

"You?"

I smile. "Never better."

She gives me a 'look'. The kind that tells me this is no time to be messing around.

"So… where are we?"

"About half a mile down-shore from the Cornicopia," she says.

I stare at her, wondering if I heard right. "Er… the _what,_ exactly?"

She sighs. "You never read the books, did you? The Cornicopia is the place where the Gamemakers lay out all the weapons and supplies. First come, first serve. It's the first major battleground of the Games."

"Do you think that…?"

"We've already missed the good stuff, yes. But to tell the truth, it's probably better that we weren't there for the initial frenzy. Especially not after what happened with the squid."

I groan. "Food?"

"Yeah, that might be a problem," she bites her lip, "And pure water. We'll need that too. And medicine…" she grimaces, "Although I'm not entirely sure they had anti-electric-squid-venom at the Cornicopia."

I attempt to sit up again. My head spins, but this time I don't fall back down. My bruised and battered muscles shriek in protest and a dull pounding starts at the back of my skull, but other than that I don't too feel bad. Scully, on the other hand, looks as if she's been halfway sucked dry by a famished vampire. I can tell that breathing is hard for her, although she's doing her best to cover it up. If I didn't know her so well, I'd figure she was just fin… okay, unharmed.

"Scully, you don't look so good. Maybe we should find somewhere to rest…"

She cuts me off, her gaze icy. "No way. If there's anything left at the Cornicopia, I'm going to get it."

I groan, but once she's got an idea in her head it's hard to shake it. And if she's going to risk her life to get a few left-over supplies, I'm not going to let her go alone. With a sigh of resignation, I stagger to my feet. She stands up beside me, swaying dangerously but somehow managing to keep her footing. Our eyes meet. Her gaze is as full of determination as mine is of anxiety. But as she reaches down and takes my hand in hers, I feel a small stirring of anticipation rise inside of me. I can't help but smile at the courage and resolution of my beautiful partner. "Let's go."


	3. Chapter 3: The Cornucopia

**~The X-Games~**

An X-Files/Hunger Games Crossover Fanfic

DISCLAIMER: All characters from the X-Files are property of Chris Carter, 10/13 Productions, and Fox Studios. The Hunger Games is the property of Suzanne Collins and the Scholastic Publishing Company. I do not own any of the plots, characters, or other material from the aforementioned TV show/books.

Author's Note:

Hi everyone!

Chapter three is done! I got into a writing mood and got this done a lot faster than I thought I would… anyway, enjoy!

And also, if you have the time, tell me what you think! :D

- Piper Kalena West

**Chapter Three**

**The Cornucopia**

**Scully's POV**

I take the lead as we make our slow but steady way down the beach. Mulder is dragging a little, despite his earlier claim of having never felt better. I sigh under my breath. As much as I'd love to find a safe spot to curl up and sleep, I know we can't ignore the pressing issues of sustenance and weapons. Without them there is no way we can win the Games. And if we don't win…

"Scully," Mulder's voice is barely audible, and I can from the tremor in it that he is far from recovered. His fingers slip from my hand as he falls to his knees, his breathing broken and harsh. As I turn toward him, I see a small trickle of crimson blood drip from the corner of his mouth.

"Mulder!" I drop beside him, taking his face gently between my hands. I can tell that there's something truly wrong with him by the way the air rasps in his throat and catches in his chest, his jaw tightening as if with pain every time he draws a breath. I'm instantly afraid that there's something hurt inside of him; something I missed in my hasty visual evaluation of his injuries.

Mulder's eyes flicker shut, his body shaking worse than ever. I put my arm around him, gently lowering him onto the sand. With tentative fingers I wipe the blood from his lips, and he lets out a soft groan at my touch.

"Mulder," I say, trying to sound professional despite my desperation, "I need you to describe what you're feeling right now. Where are you hurt?"

Mulder takes a deep breath and simultaneously lets out a yelp of pain. His eyes fly open, full of piercing agony. For a moment he just lies there, shaking and gasping, and then he shifts his head so that he's looking right up into my face. He gives a painful smile. "Everywhere."

I fight against my initial reaction-which would be to scream at him-and instead fix him with an intense glare. "You know that's not what I meant."

He considers for a second. "My chest."

I sigh. That's what I was afraid of. Carefully I move my hands down his face to his neck, sliding them over his collarbone until they rest against his chest. I apply gentle pressure to each rib in turn, but it's not until I reach the middle of his right rib cage that he cries out again, sitting up so fast that we bang heads.

"Ouch!" I fall back, blinking the sand out of my eyes. Mulder groans, lowering himself back onto the sand with a wince.

"Yeah, I think you found the place," he says weakly.

"It might be broken," I inform him, my heart sinking, "Which means…"

"Which means I should be strapped into a hospital bed for a few weeks?"

I sigh. "Somewhere along those lines."

For a long time we just sit there, each lost in our own thoughts. At last I rise to my feet, using one foot to gently pin him to the ground as he attempts to follow suit.

"Ah, c'mon, Scully…"

"Stay here," I say firmly, "I'll be right back."

"Like hell…"

I cut him off, bending down so that my face is only a foot above his. "Jay Mulder, if you try to follow me, I will personally see to it that…" but I can't really threaten him; not in his current state.

He seems to sense my weakness, a half-hearted grin lighting up his handsome features. "Yeah, yeah. Unless you tie me to a tree, I'm coming with you, wherever you might go."

I glare at him, raising one eyebrow at his stubbornness. _Maybe I _should_ tie him up._ "Okay—race you!" I say, jumping up and racing away down the beach. _Let's see him follow me now!_ But to my utter frustration and astonishment, I soon hear footsteps on the sand behind me. I glance over my shoulder, cursing under my breath. Even injured and with only one boot on, my partner is _fast._

"Wait up, Scully!" he practically yells after me. How he can yell with a broken rib sure beats the hell out of me.

_Great, _I grit my teeth and slow to a brisk walk. _Now everyone in the arena knows where we are._ It isn't long before Mulder catches up to me, panting and pale but infuriatingly smug.

"Hi," he gasps, and I can tell he's trying to sound as composed as possible, "You're… fast."

I snort, refusing to look at him. "You're going to kill yourself."

"No," he pants, "I'm not going to make it that easy for you."

Despite his joking tone, this casual comment makes me furious. I turn to face him, my eyes locking on his drained face. "Do you think I _want_ you to die, Mulder? After everything we've been through…" I feel something hot and wet flowing down my cheeks, and I lift a hand to my face. I'm crying. _Dammit._ Now Mulder's going to think I'm just a stupid coward.

"Scully," Mulder's voice, weak as it is, is suddenly full of concern. Of course this only makes me cry harder. I put my hands over my face and turn away from him, forcing down the sobs that threaten to push their way up my constricted throat. "Scully?" Mulder's hands settle on my shoulders, his breath warming my cheek and jaw. His voice is little more than a whisper in my ear, his lips brushing my hair as he speaks. "We should go together. You watch my back, and I'll watch yours. Just like always."

I nod, turning and pressing my face against his muscular chest. My tears mix with the saltwater on his shirt, dripping down onto the white sand. I reach up and rest my hands against the sides of his neck, closing my eyes as I lean into him. He responds by wrapping his arms firmly around me, pulling me in even closer. I feel his cheek come to rest against the top of my head, his breath stirring my still-damp and sandy hair. I smile, and for a few seconds we just stand there, lost in the moment.

He breaks the embrace first, pulling his hands up so that they rest on my shoulders. I look up, deep into his glowing eyes. He brings one hand up to run it gently across my cheek and over my jaw. I shudder under his touch, warmth creeping into my veins.

"You ready to kick some Tribute ass?" he asks, and I nod. He pulls away from me then, his face full of anticipation. "Lead on," he grins and takes my hand as we start off down the beach together.

. . . . . .

We reach the Cornucopia at dusk. As I had expected, there is nothing left near the middle, and virtually nothing around the edges. I try not to let my disappointment show, telling myself that it's better that we didn't get involved in the initial bloodshed, the signs of which are all around us. Blood stains the sand and dirt, splashed across the leaves of some low-hanging branches. A couple of bodies lie pale and lifeless beside the great golden horn, their bodies ravaged by our savage opponents. I shudder and look away.

Beside me, Mulder is silent. I can almost feel the guilt pouring off of him in waves, surrounding him like an aura. I give his hand a squeeze, trying to convey in that one simple gesture that it isn't his fault. None of this is. It wasn't like he planned this when he tracked Rosetta into that parking lot, and I can't blame him for what happened as a result.

"Looks like we're a bit late to the party," Mulder says.

I sigh. "Let's take a look around. There might be something worth taking."

We head off in different directions, quickly making our way around the Cornucopia. There really is nothing left, not even an empty container or piece of rope. I'm just about to give it up and suggest we find a place to sleep for the night when Mulder's voice sounds behind me.

"Scully, come see this!" he sounds excited, his voice cutting through the dusk air. He doesn't seem to realize that shouting will bring down every creature within half a mile or more, and of course I can't shout back to tell him this, so I take off running toward the sound of his voice.

"Mulder, what is it?" I find him crouched over something halfway hidden in a thicket, his body partially blocking the object in question. As I approach, I realize it's the body of a young girl, her brown eyes wide and staring and her cold bloodless fingers still clutching a silver knife. I stop, my own eyes widening as I look down at her.

Mulder turns toward me, his eyes sparkling. "She has a backpack. And she's carrying a weapon as well… wait, two weapons. A bow and arrow set, and a knife."

I stare at him as my shock fades and reality sets in once more. I give a sharp nod, reaching down and prying the knife from the dead girl's fingers. For a moment I can't help but wonder what her name was, and who she left behind in her District home. But it doesn't matter. She's dead, and we might as well take what she no longer needs.

As soon as we've gotten her weapons and pack off, we leave the dead girl and set off into the woods. Mulder carries the knife and pack, I the bow. I have never tried archery before, but I figure it can't be all that different from shooting a gun. And even if it's completely different, at least I have good hand-eye coordination and target skills.

"Here," Mulder says breathlessly as we reach a dark, well-hidden thicket of lush tropical plants and black ivy, "Let's… stop." He sinks to his knees, his breathing coming in short gasps.

"Mulder…" I slide down next to him, looking up into his face. He looks pale, drained. Our little excursion has taken the last bit of fight out of him.

He turns to face me, forcing a small smile. "Well, at least my chest feels a bit better. I think walking actually helped."

I raise one eyebrow. _Maybe that rib's not broken after all._ "That's good. Let's set up camp here, and see how you are in the morning," I pause, licking my lips nervously as I quickly scan the darkness that has fallen around us, "Who knows what comes out at night in these woods? It'd probably be safest in a tree." _Thank God I took the time to read the Hunger Games, or we'd already be dead._

Mulder nods. "What about cougars or climbing creatures, though? Or rabid bats?"

I give him a tired smile. "We'll be fine. If you don't think a tree is a good idea, we can crash right here. And if the other tributes find us, then…"

"Then we're completely screwed," Mulder sighs, lowering himself onto the ground and putting his head on the backpack, "At least it's warm tonight. No need for a fire or tent."

"Mmm-hmm," I move myself closer to him, trying to get comfortable on the jungle floor, "Goodnight, Mulder."

"'Night," he mutters. A moment later he's fast asleep, his face peaceful as he slips into unconsciousness.

Mulder has only been asleep for a few minutes when what I assume is the Capitol's anthem sounds directly above us. I look up in surprise, but Mulder doesn't move. High above us, through the heavy branches that hang over our heads, I see a screen showing the faces of the tributes who died today. There are six of them, including the girl we took the pack from. Her name was Tessa Rivers, District 8. She is preceded by Sigma Ray (District 5), Ark Jakin (District 7) and Kyser Winston (District 6) and followed by Damian Ash and Riara Candi, both from District 9. The anthem ends, and the screen disappears.

Sighing, I turn over and try to stay awake. Although I'd never admit it to Mulder, I'm terrified right now. What kind of horrible creatures have the Gamemakers placed in these woods for the sole purpose of destroying us? As much as I'd love to sleep right now, I know I can't. Propping myself up on one arm, I prepare to wait out a long, torturous night's vigil.


End file.
